


Long Live The Prince

by JaMills



Series: Hard Feelings [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adoption, Author loves Italics, Broken Hearts, Communication Issues, Divorced parents, Dubious Morality, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Underage Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mafia AU, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Pakhan Victor Nikiforov, Regret, Running away from home, Victor also Fucked Up, Yakuza Yuuri Katsuki, Yuri is loved and spoiled, Yuri is their child, Yuri loves his criminal dads, Yuuri Fucked Up, it's barely there, little angst, this family is a mess, victuuri break-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-19 14:03:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13705965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaMills/pseuds/JaMills
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky has a complicated family. He's not the only kid to have two fathers, much less divorced ones. But he can't count many children who have parents in the Russian and Japanese mafia respectively.Almost nine years ago a fight separated Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki, leading the latter to flee to Japan with their only son. Everything would remain the same for the two crime bosses, but Yuri runs away from home and puts his parents in a rampage.Yuuri panics, Victor is happy to have his little prince back and Yura just wanted his family together.





	1. Bet you wanna rip my heart out

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a translation of my work published in Brazilian Portuguese in another website. I brought this to AO3 because the world doesn't have enough Doting Parents Victuuri. It'll never do. So I got over my self-conciousness of writing in English just to feed the fluff gods. Amen.  
> We are in 2014 here. Yuri is 14, Yuuri is 33 and Victor is 34.  
> Title is from Hard Feelings by Lorde. I'll probably use other lyrics of the same song along the way. This won't be long, probably four chapters.  
> Enjoy!

 When Yuri was 14, he almost started a war.

 

It wasn’t a big evil plan, to tell the truth. He was just angry. He fought with his Dad over his training and how far he was behind the other recruits. Yuuri didn’t listen and only mumbled something about him not being a soldier but an heir. Yuri didn't like being treated like a child, so he ran away.

 

Childish decision? Maybe.

 

The logistics have been more complicated, but Internet helps a lot. When you search in the right places, you find what you need, such as fake documents, the most discreet flights, the cheapest hotels, everything. And it’s all simpler when you have money. Yuri had a considerable allowance.

 

He wasn’t planning to go to Russia. He just wanted to get out of Japan and prove that he could live by himself. I don’t know, maybe a week in America before the whole yakuza was on his neck? Sounds good enough.

 

But that wasn’t what happened. His flight had to make an emergency landing in Vladivostok and he thought he had some time before the authorities raised eyebrows about a boy of 14 (16 in the documents. He had all of them, by the way) traveling the world alone. He thought wrong, because he was soon barred and threatened to be returned to Japan on that same day. It didn’t help that he tried to punch a guard and now was handcuffed in an office. Embarrassing, really.

 

Okay, maybe he was a little scared now. Not about going back to Japan, even if the idea of finding his father in anger wasn’t pleasant at all. But of them finding out who he was, what his name meant. After all, he was in Russia.

 

Suddenly Yuri felt very dumb for not having thought of the obvious solution to the problem. Because what do you do when you can’t ask your father for help?

 

Exactly, ask your other father for help.

 

 

“I have Russian citizenship!” He shouted at the guard in fluent Russian. “I'm from St. Petersburg!”

 

"That's not what it says here, Mr. Yuzuru Takahashi.” The man read his ID with a grimace. “But we know that this is fake, so there’s nothing here that helps you. What’s your real name, false _yaposhka_?”

 

Yuri frowned at the prejudiced name. If he had a gun, that man would learn to speak with respect about Japanese people.

 

"I don’t need and don’t want to say my name. I want to make a phone call.” He said seriously. They had taken his things, including his cell phone.

 

The man laughed.

 

"You think this is Hollywood, boy? Children don’t ask for lawyers.”

 

"I want to talk to my father, but that's none of your business." He grunted, but then had an idea. "How much do you get in this pathetic job? My father could pay you well if you keep your mouth shut and give me a phone.”

 

This made the man raise his eyebrows and look around, making sure they were alone.

 

"Are you bribing me, brat?" He said folding his arms. "That could put your parents in trouble."

 

“But you want it.” He said with a knowing smile. That type was more common than it should have. “Give your price. Three times your salary? Four? Papa certainly won't mind.”

 

"Who's your father, kid? Some politician? Businessman?" The man seemed interested every passing minute. "Someone important wouldn’t let his offspring mess around in airplanes.”

 

“Family matters.” He said with false victimhood. Only idiots fell for his lost child face. “I just want to go home, okay? Let me talk to my dad.”

 

The guard seemed to think for a minute before picking the boy's cell phone from an office drawer.

 

"This is going to be expensive." He warned grimly before giving the device. He’d hardly cared to let go of the handcuffs.

 

Yuri knew the number as well as kids knew the police one or the fire department's. And if it was early dawn now, it must be daytime in St. Petersburg, right?

 

He waited for the call to complete as if his life depended on it.    

 

 

 

 

 

 

Victor Nikiforov hadn’t received a call from Japan for exactly 8 years, 7 months and 18 days. Not that he was counting, of course.

 

Usually he was the one calling there. Yuri's birthday, Christmas, New Year... It was only because of Yuri. He hadn’t heard Yuuri Katsuki's voice in a long time.

 

But he couldn’t forget it, even trying.

 

His day was going like any other, until Georgi came into his office with a puzzled expression and the phone in his hand.

 

“It's Yuuri Katsuki. He wants to talk to you.”

 

Just that phrase was enough to change the day completely.

 

 

Victor swallowed hard as a thousand things went through his head. The first one was stupid and said Yuuri wanted to come back. Discarded in a minute. The second warned that it might be about Yuri and he worried, finally picking up the phone.

 

The device was cold and heavy against the palm of his hand. Victor moistened his lips and answered.

 

“Hello?”

 

“ _Victor,_ ” It was Yuuri and the Russian could hear he was crying. “ _Yuri d_ _isappeared_.”

 

“What?” He said louder than he should have “How did he disappear?”

 

 _“He ran away. I was traveling and came back as soon as I was told. We've been looking for almost seven hours. The city's security cameras saw him taking the train to the airport. He left the country, Victor. He ran away from Japan, he ran away from_ me _.”_

_Well, now we see who he takes after_ , Victor thought venomously, but he wouldn’t dare to say that now.

 

“Yuuri, calm down. Why would he run away from home? Do you have any idea where he might be?”

 

 _"We fought, he wanted more_ _field_ _missions_ _and_ _I_ _didn’t listen. But that was weeks ago, I didn’t think he was_ _still_ _angry. I have no idea where he might have gone.”_ His voice was so weak. It was strange to see Yuuri in a position other than control. _"Victor, what if somebody_ _finds_ _him before us?"_

He knew the implications of that phrase. There were so many people thirsting for Victor and Yuuri’s blood. To lay hands on their son was a full feast.

 

"They won’t, Yuuri. This will not happen. I think you've already looked for information in China and Southeast Asia, I'll see if I can find anything here or in America. Christophe can check Europe. Yuri will be fine.”

 

 _"_ _Fine_ _. He'll be_ _fine_ _."_ The Japanese said again and again trying to convince himself _. "If anything happens to him, I'll never forgive myself, Victor. I swear, if the worst happens_ , _I..._

 

“It's not your fault.” He said softly, as he did when they were still together. “Yura has a strong personality, it’t just like him to do something like that. There was no way you could predict it. We'll find him and everything will be fine.”

  

 _“...Thank you, Victor. Thank you very much."_   The voice on the other end spoke with a tenderness so familiar yet so surreal to Victor's ears. It didn’t sound like the man who cursed the Russian with very ugly names years ago.

 

“I'll call you if I have any news.” He finally said, eager to finish that conversation and start acting. Or maybe he was just scared. "Good bye, Yuuri.”

_“Bye, Victor.”_

 

The man hung up and sat there for a second to organize his thoughts. Long ago, soon after they had quarreled and Yuuri decided Yuri wouldn’t set foot in Russia any soon, Victor thought he was bound to never see his son again. The geopolitical part of his brain reminded him that he could lose the legitimate heir of the _bratva_ and it only made it worse. He couldn’t bear a life without Yuuri, nevermind without Yura too.

 

But Yuuri was generous, at the highest level his cold yakuza heart allowed. He could still see Yuri, talk to him. But he wouldn’t leave Japan. Yuuri was paranoid, that was the truth. And because of his paranoia, Victor's pettiness, and their stubborness, they broke up. Yuri grew up on the Japanese side of the family, but being a Plisetsky, the rule of the Russian group was his by right. He was the heir of two powerful clans and his rivals knew it.

 

What better way to bring down the enemy than to destroy their future?

 

Victor was about to step away to call Georgi again when the phone rang once more.

 

 

He frowned at the number. He didn’t recognize it, but it was a cell phone from Japan by the prefix. Hadn’t Yuuri called less than five minutes ago?

 

“Victor Nikiforov speaking.” He said as he left the room. Where was Popovich when he needed it?

 

_“Papa?”_

 He stopped immediately and his eyes widened at the recognition of the voice. It was a joke, wasn’t it?

 

“Yuri?” He asked incredulously. "Yurachka, is that you? Are you alright?

 

 _“_ _Yeah,_ _it's me. I'm fine.”_

Victor had barely realized he was holding his breath until the air came out of his lungs and he ran his hand through his hair. The platinum strands were getting thinner every year.

 

"Yuri, where are you?" He said seriously, but with clear concern in the voice. “Yuuri called me and said you left the country. How did you come up with this stupid idea?”

 

_“It's a long story. But for now, can you pick me up at Vladivostok? I'm stuck in an airport.”_

“Vladivostok? How the...? You know what, nevermind. But Primorsky is much closer to Japan. I'm going to call your Dad and…”

 

 _“No!_ _Please_ _,_ _don_ _’t call Dad. I wanted to run away for a reason and I'm not willing to go back anytime soon.”_ He said with determination and Victor had to remember he wasn’t ten _anymore. “Since_   _I_ _dug_ _my_ _own_ _grave, at least I can_ _see_ _you, right?”_

Victor is already having headaches with this talk. Was this how Yakov reacted when he had an stupid idea?

 

"Yura, it's a ten hours trip. It’d be much more practical if Yuuri came to pick you. He’s desperate. If I tried to hide you, it could start a war between us.” He said trying to put a little sense in his head.

 

 _“I_ _don_ _’t care. If you turn me in, not only_ _I_ _will stop talking to you, but I'll also_ _get_ _away from this place_.” He spoke with too much confidence for someone who was only 14 years old _. “Then you and Dad go back to square one on my whereabouts._ _”_

_"_ You wouldn’t go that far _."_  He said with a half-smile, but impressed by the audacity of rhe boy.

 

 _“_ _Do_ _you want to_ _take_ _the_ _risk?”_   The challenge was clear in his voice.

 

 Yuri wanted to prove his worth, that was pretty obvious. Victor shouldn’t bow to a teenager. Back in his time, Yakov would let him screw things up badly so he would return home with a wounded pride and a bullet in the forearm. He'd learned some painful lessons from that method and Yuri should learn them too. But this was his Yurachka they were talking about. Yuuri and Victor discussed a hundred of times when they were still together that they’d always be on their son’s side, no matter what. But maybe he was spoiling the kid too much now.

 

 Well, Yuuri certainly spoiled him enough. It was his turn.

 

"Okay, let's make up a plan.” He said in his best strategy tone. “Who’s taking care of you now?”

 

 _“A guard. Stupid guy, but_ _accepts bribing_.”

 

“Typical. Listen now: I'll get you on the next flight to St. Petersburg. There are two stops in Novosibirsk and Moscow. By the time you get to Novosibirsk, I'm going to call Yuuri and tell him I just found you. When all this mess is over, you're telling him you planned to come straight to St. Petersburg and you won’t even mention Vladivostok. If Yuuri somehow finds out the truth, the masks will fall and it won’t be pretty. From there you face the consequences.”

 

 _“Ok, I got it.”_  Yuri sounded a lot calmer now, much different from the nervous threat bubble seconds ago.

 

"And Yura, after all this ends, I hope you're the picture perfect son for Yuuri. No more fights, no more escapes. He was crying on the phone. I’m breaking a reciprocal pact of trust by covering you up.” He said witch sincerity and was pleased to receive the silence of guilt.

 

 _“Okay, whatever.”_  There was no malice in his speech, just the words of a kid who wanted to get away from his problems. _“_ _Get_ _fast_ _with_ _this trip, these chairs suck._ _ _ _ _”____

 

 Victor allowed himself a chuckle. Well done to those who fool worried parents.

 

“I love you, Yurachka. Now let me talk to the adults.”


	2. 'Cause I remember the rush, when forever was us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! Thank you for all the people who commented/left kudos. You guys smash.  
> In this chapter we know more about how Yuri came to be part of the family, as well as a little light on how our sweethearts broke up. Also, lots of family fluff!  
> Enjoy <3

The plan was working fine for now. The security man who took Yuri’s case introduced himself as Misha and asked for thirty thousand rubles to complete his task. It’s amazing how the plebs feel powerful with a few coins in their hands. Victor wondered what would happen if Misha knew he was talking to the _pakhan_ on the phone.

 

 It’d be funny.  
 

 Soon after Yuri called from Novosibirsk, Victor called Yuuri. The one who answered was Phichit Chulanont and he didn’t sound very happy talking to the Russian, but promised to give the news as soon as Yuuri woke up from his pill-induced sleep. Once again, Victor felt guilty for plotting with his evil son against his ex.  
 

  Then he remembered Victor Nikiforov at the age of 24, with tears on his face, screaming orders at his men to find Yuuri and Yuri who have disappeared over the night. He wanted to die tormented by the possibility of them in danger because of him and cursed himself a hundred times for not having heard Yuuri. The conspiracy was real, his fiancé was right. It was real and now it’s too late and they could be dead and...  
 

 Yuuri magically called after three weeks to casually say he was with Yuri in Japan and that he wouldn’t return until all of those in the highest ranks were eliminated. He trusted no one there.  
 

  _"You said that if I wanted to control someone, I_ _should_ _go back to Japan." Young Yuuri had said at the time on_ _the_ _phone. “I’m_ _here, Vitya. It's going to take a lot of work to_ _change my mind_ _.”_

__

He suffered a lot at that time. Young and in love, the perfect match for disaster. But the good thing about disasters is that they leave a clean ground on their path. In this new ground Victor no longer accepted being abandoned. If Yuuri wanted him far away, great. He didn’t need him.

 

 Everything happening now was payback for the Katsuki-Nikiforov break-up years ago. Victor just felt a little bad for enjoying it all too much.

 

 It was almost dark when Yuri's flight arrived in St. Petersburg. Victor went alone, disposing of his _sovietnik_ once in his life. Maybe Popovich needs a break, he works too much.

 

 He was anxious as he looked at all the people leaving through the gate. He’d checked his watch four times and just gave up on adjusting the sleeves of his suit. He’s just a poor mobster missing his son, would it be too much for an airplane to arrive on time?

 

 It took him some time to recognize him because of his height, but then his eyes fell on a tiger print jacket matching the backpack. The hood fell as Yuri recognized him, blond strands that had never changed color since Victor had first seen him twelve years ago.

 

 The two began to move almost at the same time. It started with a normal pace, but the speed increased with every second and in the end they’re already running. Yuri almost knocked over two people before finally being wrapped in a crushing hug. His father's hug.

 

"Papa." Yuri whispered in a voice muffled by the Armani suit. "I missed you. I missed you so, so bad.”

 

"Me too, Yurachka. Me too.” He said before completing his ritual of showering the blond in kisses. He only kissed gold, after all.  

 

He had grown a lot. The last time they had seen each other in person he was 10 and had his hair in a bowlcut. God, how he missed Yuri.

 

 Holding his face, he didn’t know what to say. Yuri was becoming such a handsome boy, Victor felt sick for not being there to watch him grow up. There was so much to talk about, so much he wanted to know. But the memory of Yuuri crying on the phone was faster and he grew serious.  
 

 

 "Your father is very worried about you. We need to talk.”

 

 Yuri made a face and walked away crossing arms. There goes the moment.

 

"Four years and the first thing you do is scold me?" He asked with a frown.

 

 Ouch. That sharp tongue had certainly come from Yuuri.

 

"Don’t use that tone on me, young man. I wouldn’t be scolding you if you hadn’t screwed up.” He said in a neutral mood. “Let's go home, you start being grounded here in Russia. No one in the house is allowed to give you the wi-fi password.”

 

“What?! But I...! Oh, you know what, fuck this.” He said, pressing his way toward the exit.

 

 “Yuri.” He called in a clear tone, lacking all the affection from early.

 

 Yuri turned around grunting and stopped when he noticed Victor's demeanor. He wasn’t joking now, any soft trace replaced by coldness. If he could send that look to his own son, what about his enemies?

 

 Ending the distance between them, Victor removed the bag from the younger's back before saying:

 

"I'm pretty sure Yuuri wouldn’t allow these manners in Tokyo. He always knew how to keep his posture no matter the occasion. It's not because you're back in your homeland that you can talk and do whatever you want. If there you owe respect to _oyabun_ Katsuki, here you respond to _pakhan_ Nikiforov.” He said with the calm and objectivity of a man who knows how to deal with power, all this while studying the changes in the boy’s expressions. Untrained children were very easy to read.

 

 “Am I making myself clear?”

 

“Yes, sir.” He said with looking down. Respects authority when sees one. Typical Japanese education.

 

“Great.” The older man said with a smile, leaving the airport with one arm around the younger's shoulders. “Now I want to know what you’ve been up to. Are you still skating?”

 

“Just for fun. I chose to take dance more seriously.” He said without looking his father in the eye.

 

Ugh. Of course Yuuri would project his interests on their son when he's not there to intervene. With a strained grin, Victor continued:

 

“That's awesome! So we have another dancer in the family!”

 

"Yeah, but I don’t like classic ballet that much. I prefer contemporary.” Yuri seemed more relaxed talking about his interests. It was almost like the times Victor called to know how he was.

 

 The two got in the car and Victor signaled to the driver to take some useless laps around town before arriving home. He wanted to talk to Yuri and knew that as soon as they set foot in the mansion, he’d be swallowed up by the other residents' questions.

 

“What about your girlfriends?” Victor asked not even trying to hide the silly grin on his lips.

 

“Huh?”

 

"Boyfriends, then?"

 

“Father!”

 

“What? It's time! Is there anything better than dating? I want grandchildren, Yura!” He finished with a pout.

 

 Yuri only grew redder with each word.

 

“Papa, I'm not even 15.” He muttered.

 

"You Japanese people and your prude traditions.” He sighed dramatically. "But you have no examples to follow, Yura. Yuuri was a very good kisser at 16.”

 

“Oh, come on.” He said with a grimace taking his cell phone and earphones from his pocket. “I didn’t travel eight thousand miles to hear about you and Dad making out. Bye.”

 

“Ok, I'll stop!” He said laughing while holding the blonde's hand. “You're not fun at all.”

 

“Look who's talking.” He grumbled, but there’s a trace of smile on his lips as he stared through the tinted glass.

 

Vitya didn’t want to ruin that moment. He wanted to ask about all the embarrassing things parents ask, to keep up with the four years he didn’t really talk with Yura. But some things had to be fixed as soon as possible. The boy's behavior couldn’t become an habit.

 

"I think it's time for serious talk, then.” His smile diminished. "Why did you fight with your dad?"

 

Yuri tensed for a second, but then said:

 

"Because he treats me like a baby. I know how to shoot, fight, know all the rules, but he doesn’t give me any tasks.” He looked at him as if he was offended. “There are twelve-year-olds there who have already done their first job!”

 

"You don’t have to do the dirty work, Yuri.” Victor frowned. “Yuuri would only let you work if you were mature enough for the job.”

 

 "You both started way before you’re 14.” He accused. “And at 19, you were the strongest forces in Europe.”

 

"Those were different times.” The older man sighed. "If Yuuri thinks you're not ready, I won’t disagree.”

 

“What kind of _pakhan_ or _kumicho_ I’ll be if I just shoot someone at 18?!” He said, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

 

"Believe me when I say you don’t want to kill anyone, Yuri.” He said darkly, hoping the boy would understand the seriousness of his words. "When you're at the top, you see a lot of things. I see blood, Yurachka. Your father, too. Maybe it’s naïve of us to be delaying this, but it’s because we love you.”

 

"You won’t protect me doing this.” He said looking back at the window.

 

 Victor undid his own hair for the hundredth time that day. That’s the kind of conversation he should have with Yuuri by his side.

 

“It's worth a try, Yurachka. We do stupid things for love.” He confessed and it sounded more painful than he wanted to. Great, now he needed a drink.

 

 The necessary conversation was over, so Victor knocked twice on the wall that connected the two parts of the car, signaling for the driver to return the route.

 

 They’re both silent for a while until the blonde asks in a low voice:

 

"If I were in Russia, I'd be helping the _bratva_ , right?"

 

 Victor sucked in a breath. It would certainly be a much faster training than the yakuza, even if he avoided the heavier missions. But that wasn’t exactly the topic here, but rather that Yura had already considered living in Russia again.

 

"Do you want to live in Russia?" He asked cautiously.

 

"I couldn’t leave Dad alone.” He admitted. "It's not about the country, It’s you. I want us to be together again.”

 

 Victor ignored his broken heart when realizing that he wasn’t exactly the reason Yuri wanted to come back, just to roll his eyes at the phrase.

 

"Yuri, you're not a child anymore. You know that won’t happen. Not after what your father did.” He said in a much more sour mood.

 

“He said the same.” Yuri smirked. "I’m sorry, but you two are just plain stupid. Both want to fix things by shooting them up.”

 

"First, this is rude and we didn’t raise you like this." He said turning to the boy with his index finger up. "Second, you know the story, but you'll only understand when you're older. It’s about maturity.”

 

“Sure. ‘Victor, sweetie, I think they want to kill Yuri’, ‘Yuuri, dear, that’s nonsense and you have no right to question the _pakhan',_  'If that’s it, fuck you, honey. I’m running away with our child.’” Yuri said everything with an exaggerated imitation of his parents’ voices and very expressive faces. “See? It's dumb.”

 

“That’s not what happened.” Victor said defensively. "Who told you this?"

 

“Phichit and Minako-sensei. Giacometti as well the last time he visited.” Yuri shrugged, looking at his father expecting an answer.

 

 “That’s... It was a lot more complicated than that, okay?” Victor said tired of this talk already. There were too many memories for just one ride. “Can we change the subject?”

 

"Okay." He thought a little before saying. "Dad has a new boyfriend.”

 

 Sure, that’s definitely not the kind of stuff he wanted to discuss, but Victor already took the bait.

 

“Really?” He sounded more interested than he intended. "What is he like?"

 

“A pretentious piece of shit. A little older than Dad, Chinese, works with the Triad. The name is Cao Bin.”

 

 The name didn’t ring a bell, but the Russian grimaced at the mention of the Triad. Business were tricky with them this year.

 

"And Yuuri likes him a lot?" Luckily Victor didn’t sound so desperate.

 

“Bullshit, he just feels lonely. He never had anyone serious after you." Yuri seemed to be telling the truth, and he continued with expectation. “Papa, do you still like him?"

 

"No." Convincing a scientist that Earth was flat seemed easier than saying that.

 

 Yuri noticed the blatant lie and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Sure.” He said slowly.

 

“Yura, don’t give me that look!” Victor hid his face behind his own hands. He couldn’t believe he was talking about his pathetic love life with his son. “It's difficult, okay? I got hurt from that relationship, I can’t just start over.”

 

"You weren’t the only who suffered after the break up. Dad never recovered. And neither did I.” There was grudge in his voice, a feeling that shouldn’t be in someone so young. Victor felt guilty.

 

 Neither of them spoke again until the gates of the Nikiforov estate. Yuri straightened up on his seat and lowered the glass to better see his old home. The man beside him smiled. Yura was still a child.

 

 It was already dark, so the house was only lit by the garden lights and the windows. Yuri needed a little push to get out of the car and start walking towards the door.

 

“It looks… smaller.” He said looking around, curious.

 

"You've grown up, Yurachka.” Victor said messing up his hair and pulling complaints of the same. “Your father will call and won’t be in a good mood. You'll talk to him.”

 

 He seemed ready to oppose, but Victor was faster:

 

“Don’t try to run away. Learn to deal with the consequences. I can’t always cover you.” He said softly as he opened the door. "Welcome back, _solnyshko_.”

 

 Yuri hesitated before entering, but when he did, his eyes soon traveled through every bit of the room. It was familiar and at the same time different. Maybe they changed the furniture? The gray marble floor was the same, the white paint on the walls too. The chandelier that looked enormous when he was young was still there, not less opulent. There were the polished wooden stairs that he’d climb up and down without stopping, the cupboard full of glasses and bottles that made his nannies’ nightmares, and then...

 

“Vitya!” A female voice accompanied by the sound of heels on the floor interrupted his thoughts. “Katsuki won’t stop calling, where is... Oh!”

 

 Yuri blinked a few times before a name came to mind.

 

“Mila?”

 

“Yura!” The redhead wasted no time, hugging him as tightly as his father had done earlier. "You're so grown up!"

 

“Argh! Get out, I need to breath!” He said in an unsuccessful attempt to pull away from the older woman and save his face from lipstick marks.

 

 “Awn, a squirmy kitten as always!” She said pinching his cheeks like those old aunts do. She wouldn’t run from her nature. "You're not going to get a girlfriend this way."

 

"I don’t need a girlfriend." He said with his best mortal glare as she finally let him go. Victor behind him was holding back a laughter.

 

"Your other father is ready to kill someone.” The woman said suddenly. “He’ll probably cross Siberia on foot if you don’t talk to him right now.”

 

 Plisetsky bit his lower lip and looked at Victor as if asking for help. The elder didn’t relent.

 

"Go on and face the beast, buddy. I’ll stay here and prepare your funeral.” Nikiforov could be evil when he needed to. It’s useful on his job.

 

Yuri accepted his fate and followed Mila to the phone, leaving Victor alone in the great hall.

 

 When Yuuri and Yuri left, Victor realized that wealth was nothing when one didn’t have someone to share it with. Vitya at 12, fresh from the streets and taken care of by Yakov, saw money as the apex of human happiness. Yuuri came to live in Russia when he was 19 and Victor thought that maybe there were other things that can make you happy. Then they met Yura. Yuuri was 21; Victor, 22. Two men skilled in the art of torture, lying and manipulation, who had no idea on how to soothe a crying child.

 

 It all started in that very room, twelve years ago.  

 

 

 _It_ _was_ _all_ _happening_ _so_ _fast._ _A new_ _group_ _wrecking_ _havoc in the suburbs, Nina Plisetskaya_ _being_ _murdered,_ _making_ _Nikolai Plisetsky's only grandson and_ _heir_ _an_ _orphan. Mila had come home at night with a baby on her arms and blood on her dress. She had barely looked at them as she left a weeping Yuri on the couch and went upstairs to her room. She really wasn’t paid enough for that_ _bullshit_ _._

_That night was hell. Nothing made the baby stop crying. They tried food, diapers, playing. Victor even suggested a sleeping pill, but all he got was a very ugly look from Yuuri and more crying. After what seemed like an hour of despair and the couple questioning the existence of God, Mila came down from her room in a pink silk robe and a glass of wine in her hand, looking like_ _a_ _cheap_ _soap_ _opera_ _villain_ _who_ _just_ _killed_ _her_ _husband._

  _Victor_ _was pissed and thought of_   _firing her at the stake for being so useless_ _, but he never understood what happened_ _at_ _the_ _time. Mila switched on Yakov's_ _old_ _as_ _hell gramophone and slouched on the couch as if she owned the house. Just a look at her face showed that this_ _wasn’t_ _the_ _first_ _glass of the night._

_For a minute, music and wailing_ _went_ _together, but soon_ _Yuri_ _started_ _to_ _calm down. Okay, that_ _must_ _have_ _been witchcraft. All they needed this time was music?_

_“Plisetskys have a musical taste very similar to Yakov’s.” Mila said between_ _tastes of her wine_ _._

_The song was a favorite of Feltsman: 'Stammi vicino, non te ne andare.' An Italian piece, gifted_ _by_ _a friend._

 

_Yuri finally seemed to get tired of crying and fell asleep right there, cradled by the vinyl notes._

_Stay_ _close_ _to_ _me_ _,_ _don_ _’t_ _go_ _away._

_Yuuri and Victor never liked a song as much as they did that day._

 

 

Victor rubbed his eyes in an attempt to erase the image of his tired mind. No good. Now when he looks at his Yuri, grown up and becoming a man, he wondered how everything could be different. If he had heard Yuuri, if Yuuri hadn’t been so harsh in his decision to leave. They could sit and settle it as adults and not shooting things up as Yuri said. They would still be a family, living in this house, or in Japan, under a damn bridge, whatever. Any place would work, as long as they were together.

 

 Yuri returned with Mila, looking at least two shades paler and Victor was forced to stop playing the martyr.

 

"Dad said he'll pick me up tomorrow.” The blonde said in a low voice. He looked mildly terrified.

 

"That and a bunch of Japanese words not suited for minors. He was very loud.” Babicheva says with a smirk. “My Japanese sucks, but I think I got ‘snake-filled hole’ and ‘bastards’".

 

“Yuuri is great at cursing.” Nikiforov thought aloud, just to shake his head after. “Are you hungry, Yura? I'll have dinner ready. Any special requests?”

 

 The blonde thought for a moment and answered:

 

“Stroganoff.” A small smile caught his lips. "And pirozhki.”

 

“Don’t let Lilia know you’re slacking your dancer’s diet.” Mila warned. "You're lucky she's in Moscow today."

 

"My Yurachka can eat whatever he wants, Mila. Don’t be a party wrecker.” Victor said distracting himself with the boy's blond hair. Interesting, it's the perfect size for a braid. “Strong Russians are always well fed. Diets mean unnecessary suffering.”

 

 The redhead smiled wickedly as she stared at her nails.

 

"Victor Yakovlevich always favored the chubby ones, huh?"

 

 Victor felt his face heat at the implication and gave up on the braid. If Yuri noticed something, he didn’t make it known.

 

"Your room is the fifth door on the left, remember?" He said with a forced smile. "You can rest and I'll call you as soon as you they serve dinner."

 

 Yuri nodded, rubbing his eyes. Jetlag was finally catching up with him.

 

 When the boy was finally out of sight, Victor murmured:

 

"You’re a mean one, Mila Yakovlevna.”

 

 The woman just laughed and clasped her hands together for forgiveness.

 

"You should’ve seen your face, Vitya! Yura didn’t even notice the reference to his own father and you noticed it too fast, actually.” Her smile tinged with a little pity. "You miss him, don’t you? Katsuki, I mean.”

 

"No." Again, he was impressed by his own ability of lying so badly. Or trying to.

 

"Don’t try that on me, Victor. You see Katsuki in Yuri and it's driving you insane.” The _avtoryet_ sighed, but soon lighted up with an idea. “Can we show him some pictures after dinner? From the time you were together?”

 

"How will this help me to forget Yuuri?" He asked frustrated and confused at the same time.

 

 "It won’t, but I want to show off all the glory of Victor with long hair, Katsuki in yoga pants and Yura in dinosaur printed pajamas!” She said clapping cheerfully and heading towards the kitchen.

 

Yeah, his family liked to torture him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some (not really) fun trivia with this:  
> \- Mila was a very close friend of Yuri's mother and was the one to find her dead and rescue little Yuri. No wonder she's in such a bad mood after coming home.  
> \- I may have used the word 'divorced' in the tags, but Victor and Yuuri actually never married. They were just engaged at the time they parted ways. We'll see more of it in the next chapter.  
> \- I don't have idea if the yakuza training is really "easier" than the bratva one. All I know about mafia I learned with (surprise surprise) other fanfiction.
> 
> Starting now, you guys can make bets on who's more "guilty" in the separation. But some of you may change sides after knowing the whole story ;)
> 
> See you next time!!


	3. Three years, loved you every single day, made me weak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! In this chapter we finally know the whole story about why our couple broke up. I'm sorry if the political part is messy and hard to understand, there were things I wasn't sure on how to translate ;;  
> No more chat, have a good reading!

Dinner was incredibly normal considering the circumstances. They’re all seated at the dinner table, one that has seen many messy meals from baby Yuri years ago. They welcomed him with warm smiles and didn’t even question when the blonde whispered a quiet “Itadakimasu” before eating.

                         

 Earlier, Georgi had the most restrained reaction of all of them when meeting Yuri after such a long time: only a smile and a pat on his back. Yakov tried to hide his glee at seeing the rightful heir of the _bratva_ back home. Again, he tried.

 

“Yuri Nikolaevich is becoming a man.” He said between forks with stroganoff and beer sips. “When you turn 21, you can officially come back to Russia and stay with us. The faster he takes over the business, the better. So we’ll finally shut up those old men at the Council.”

 

 It wasn’t Yakov's intention, but the mood certainly was weird after that. Georgi tried to lighten it up:

 

"Maybe Yuri wants to finish college first, father. You said you wanted to study dance, right, Yura?” The brunette asked, changing the subject.

 

"Yes." He nodded. "I thought about majoring in performing arts with…”

 

"But Katsuki can’t keep him locked up when he’s an adult." Yakov said again. "It's Yuri's job to take his grandfather's place. We've been going for twenty years without a legitimate heir!”

 

 Victor swallowed the food with difficulty before saying:

 

"Technically, Yuri doesn’t have to take over, father. Nina Nikolaevna has abdicated her position, so her children don’t need to…”

 

“Bullshit!” The man pounded his fist against the table, making glasses and plates shake. "Whether for being Nikolai's grandchild or your son, Yuri will be the next _pakhan_. The day that happens I can die in peace, because I’ll know I have done my best for this family to survive!”

 

 The room was silent. No one dared to make a move, processing the words of the former _pakhan_. Those were complicated geopolitics and Yuri was the main piece of everything since he was a child. When Nikolai Plisetsky died, the throne was empty. His daughter Nina had stated years before that she wanted nothing to do with the _bratva_ , so she was immediately discarded. Who took the reigns and avoided the bloodbath was Yakov Feltsman, Nikolai's _sovietnik_.

 

 But many considered that maneuver illegal, in a ragged excuse to justify their hunger for control. It got worse when Yakov appointed Victor Nikiforov, a boy he had adopted less than a decade ago, as his successor. Even before officially taking office, however, Victor already had an enviable track record on the transactions that maintained their syndicate. All with Yuuri Katsuki, _wakagashira_ on diplomatic mission and successor of the feared Minako Okukawa, by his side. They saved the group from aa crisi, expanded ties to Europe and America, created a new way of governing. The future was clear and grim for their enemies: the princes of Russia and Japan would unite their kingdoms one day. And when that happened, it’d be the end.

 

 Add to the math a lost Plisetsky kid. To many, it was a breeze of fresh air in that suffocating scene. He was an orphan and orphans are easy to manipulate. They just didn’t expect the Katsuki-Nikiforovs to take Yuri Plisetsky under their wing. Just the icing on the cake. The true heir of Nikolai being raised by the couple who took over the house would definitely follow the steps of his parents. He’d only legitimize their rule.

 

 That’s when a project aiming the destruction of the Nikiforov brotherhood begins. Double agents infiltrated the inner circle, gained Victor's trust and settled there. They never tried the same with Yuuri Katsuki. He shouldn’t even be there messing with other people's business, to begin with. He also just obeyed and responded to Victor.

 

  Perhaps this was the mistake of those who planned the coup: to ignore Yuuri Katsuki. Anxiety does interesting things when you’re in constant danger. For starters, you don’t trust anyone. Then you suspects everyone. And Yuuri was growing very suspicious. He found odd the arrival of those new faces, even more the change of some old ones. Katsuki began to investigate on his own, as Victor was very busy and had no time for Yuuri's whims.

 

 Except this time they weren’t just whims. No, there was something big going on and Yuuri would find out what it was. First, he checked the finances. There were missing numbers. It’s an impressive feat to divert money from an illegal firm, but they somehow managed it. He then got information on secret contracts with groups that definitely weren’t on Nikiforov's best friends list. All this thanks to the network of Phichit Chulanont, his ally in the _Chao Poh_ and close friend on their free time. All this movement was just preparation for the conspirators’ great wish: take Victor off the lead. But before that happens, they’d need to make sure that no one would try to ascend the throne in the future. So there’s this small task to be completed beforehand: to kill Yuri Plisetsky.

 

 Yuuri discovered this by pressuring a not very brave recruit who started spilling even what he didn’t need to. Kids really shouldn’t know about large operations. In the end, he learned that the boy ran away from his problems with a bullet in his head. One less idiot to cause trouble, but now Yuuri had lost a witness to confirm his suspicions.

 

 Well, it's not like Victor needed proof when words came from his fiancé and father of his son, right?

 

 He was wrong. Very, very wrong.

 

 Victor was suspicious too, but not for the right reasons. The coup intenders succeeded in planting the seed of doubt in the _pakhan_. It’s easy when they’re young. What if the marriage was a mistake? What if Yuuri Katsuki, an Okukawa from birth, was using him to reach the top and then knock him down? He was good with business. Excellent, actually. Had a problem with insecurities, that's true, but no one is sane their whole life in that environment. And if you looked at the charts, 40% of the company's sales and purchases were organized by Yuuri. It was too much freedom for a foreigner, even if he was his fiancé.

 

The final blow came from Christophe Giacometti. It wasn’t the Swiss fault. Years later he would look back, realize what he’d said, and curse himself deeply. But it wasn’t his fault, nor the three glasses of whiskey’s in Nikiforov's office. Chris had pushed when Victor was already willing to jump.

 

  _"Yuuri has a gift for seduction." The money laundering_ _specialized_ _lawyer said with a smile, a dose of alcohol balanced in his_ _hand._ _“_ _He_ _just charms people_ _so_ _easily. But I think you already know that, huh, Victor?”_

_“I know.” The Russian said with a smile much more sober than the one_ _in_ _Chris, more uncertain_ _as_ _well._

_Victor stared at the ring in his left hand._ _He_ _couldn’t_ _imagine_ _just_ _stop using it. But at the same time..._

_“_ _He'_ _s very cute.” Chris continued in his drunken euphoria. “I know_ _he's_ _yours, mon cher, but you_ _can'_ _t blame me. He can have anything he wants and he knows it. He's smart, the kid.” The blonde paused. “If Yuuri Katsuki had a little more greed, he would be pakhan.”_

_Victor froze and looked out of the corner of his eye at his friend. Drunks are always_ _true_ _in_ _their_ _words, right?_

_“You think so?” He said mildly, but his fingers closed tightly around his own glass._

_"Of course, Vic. Yuuri could rule this country alone if he wanted to. He is an Okukawa. You heard about Yuuko Nishigori, didn’t you? She’s simply revolutionary in the sports market. Who knew there were so many people interested in an underground figure skating circuit?” The blonde laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world._

_“Yuuri has so much potential. He’s the one who helped you take this group out of the mud, Victor. If he wanted, he could be pakhan, and a very good one, by the way. But why be pakhan when you have one wrapped around your fingers, right?” He winked and went back to drinking, not even realizing the damage he had done._

_From there, everything went to shit. Yuuri told of his suspicions to Victor and the latter did the same. Victor thought it was Yuuri's work and Yuuri accused him of falling like a fool for what the others had said. They both argued. It wasn’t their first fight, but it was certainly the nastiest of them. At some point, Victor dropped the bomb:_

_"If you want to rule more than me, you should go back to Japan!"_

_The two fell silent after that, neither believing that sentence was said, not even Victor. He_ _wasn’t_ _going_ _to apologize. His mind and heart were conflicted, but there was_ _too_ _much at stake here._

__He saw several things pass through Yuuri's eyes. Surprise, fear, anger, sadness, anger again. It ended with disgust and Victor decided it was the worst look on him.__

_"Fine, Victor. If you value_ _your_ _position more than Yuri's safety, let's_ _end_ _this. I’m giving up my role as your sovietnik. Put Georgi in my place, he's much better at following orders than me.” Yuuri said_ _with such bitterness_ _that Victor felt a shiver run through his skin. "Have a good night.”_

_And so he left the room,_ _to_ _never return. This argument happened a day before Victor left on a deal trip to Barcelona. It was all a coincidence that they fought_ _just_ _to_ _be_ _separated_ _right_ _after. Vitya_ _couldn’t predict_ _the real consequences of that clash. He thought they just needed_ _a_ _break_ _in_ _their_ _relatio_ _nship. It was normal_ _for_ _Yuuri_ _to_ _throw those tantrums and isolate himself_ _for_ _a_ _day._ _It_ _’_ _d_ _be fine._

_Before leaving the estate, Victor went to see Yuri in his bedroom._ _It_ _was_ _barely_ _dawn, so his little prince was still asleep._

_It was a sight to calm any conflicted heart. Yura holding Potya, his plush cat, under a pile of tiger-printed blankets. The lamp_ _was_ _turned_ _off, but his blond hair still glowed slightly in the dim light_ _from_ _the_ _window. Victor smiled and bent down to kiss the toddler's forehead, taking care_ _to_ _not wake_ _him_ _up._

_“_ _Sleep_ _well, kotenok._ _Papa_ _will_ _come_ _back_ _soo_ _n.” He whispered before leaving the_ _place_ _, not even thinking that this would be the last time_ _he_ _’d see Yura sleeping_ _under_ _the_ _same_ _roof_ _as_ _him_.

 

 

 Yuuri disappeared with Yuri while he was in Spain. It was Mila who called and let him know. His world stopped at that moment, because his suns were gone. Suddenly everything Yuuri said made sense. They wanted to eliminate Yuri to make him weak and take him out of the power. How could Victor be so stupid to doubt his own partner?

 

 He had them hunt down the names Yuuri listed and also organized a team to find the two of them. If there was a time when the _bratva_ was weakened, it was then. Victor wouldn’t think of anything but his life and love.

 

 When Yuuri finally contacted, Victor was disappointed. He couldn’t believe his ex- _sovietnik_ , and now ex-fiancé, would be so cruel to take away the only stable thing in his life. He could cut ties with Katsuki, but Yura was forever. He’s his son, his baby, his sunshine. That’s the lowest blow anyone could attempt.

 

 Victor recognized the snake he’d called "love" for six years now.

 

 Those were turbulent months that followed, with Japanese and Russians sparring over a Russian heir on Japanese soil. He couldn’t even accuse Yuuri of kidnapping since the papers appointed his name as one of Yuri’s guardians. Victor isn’t proud of admitting he considered killing Yuuri Katsuki if it meant having his son with him.

 

 The war only ended with outsiders’ meddling, Christophe on the Russian side and Phichit on the Japanese one. Yuuri didn’t want Yuri back in Russia if that meant a threat to his safety. Victor wanted his son back, but he couldn’t just kill every person Yuuri assumed was dangerous. They’re on a stalemate.

 

 There was an agreement. Yura would return to take the _bratva_ as an adult, but by then, any communication between he and Victor would be in Japan. It was just another way the future _oyabun_ had to punish the _pakhan_. Desperate people accept any terms to get what they want. Victor was very desperate.

 

 That setup continued for nine years and certainly wouldn’t change with a silly fight between Yuuri and Yuri. Today was just an atypical day.

 

 Yuri lowered the cutlery and stood up. There was still food on his plate.

 

“I’m not very hungry. Thanks for the meal.” He said mechanically before bowing slightly and leaving the room. That was very Japanese.

 

“Yura?” Victor called in a concerned frown, but there was no answer. Had he been offended by something?

 

 "This boy is full of Japanese manners.” Yakov said darkly. "He better learn the Russian way or we’ll have problems."

 

 Victor looked at him in a way that would scare any normal person, but not a long time crime boss.

 

“Of course he'll take these habits, he grew up there!”

 

"Because of you, Vitya.” The man countered. "Had you a strong pulse, you’d teach Katsuki a lesson and Yuri would be living with us. His real family, his blood.”

 

 The _pakhan_ clenched his fists over the table.

 

“Yuri Plisetsky lost his blood family with the death of Nina Plisetskaya. His true family is made up of the Nikiforovs and the Katsukis and there’s nothing you can do about it. I'm his father and Yuuri is, too.”

 

"You should have stopped playing house the moment Yuuri left us, Vitya. Save my words: your son will respect the _yakuza_ more than the _bratva_ if we don’t take the necessary measures. When that happens, don’t come to me asking fo help.” He stood up, leaving another unfinished plate. "Take actions while he's still a child, they're easier to convince.”

 

 Silence reigned again in the room once he left. Georgi sighed and drank all the contents of his glass in one sip.

 

“Another ruined dinner.” He murmured. "We were so close to break the 22 days record of no fights.”

 

“I'll talk to Yuri.” Victor said leaving the table, too.

 

“Victor.” Mila called and he had to stop “You have to consider some of what father said.”

 

"What the hell, Mila?" He was already in battle mode again. “I won’t scold Yuri for acting the way Yuuri raised him. He's my child and I love him to death. Fuck the _bratva_.”

 

This was a very dangerous thing to say, especially for the _pakhan_ , but Victor couldn’t bring himself to care. So many things have separated him from Yuri, he wouldn’t let something as stupid as traditions to be added on.

 

 Mila looked thoughtful for a second, but then said softly:

 

"The pictures are in the library, if you still want to. Maybe it will distract Yura a bit.”

 

 He didn’t expect that answer, but nodded and left. He knew very well where the photos were. His masochistic habits included flipping through the album and martyring himself for what he lost. Or rather, what he didn’t fight to win back.

He knocked twice before entering the room _ _.__

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More useless trivia:  
> \- Yuri has his grandfather's patronymic (Nikolaevich) because his biological father didn't stick around, so his mother used her own father's name to it.
> 
> So that was it. Normally people start to talk shit on Yuuri now :v I want to hear your opinions, tho! Was Victor worse? Or Yuuri is really the mean one? Tell me what you think.
> 
> See you next (and last) time!!


	4. God, I wish I believed you when you told me this was my home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go with the last chapter! This was a short, but very fun ride. A lot of people took Yuuri's side! This didn't quite happen when I first posted this, it was interesting seeing your comments xD  
> So in this chapter Yuuri finally shows up. Will they leave to Japan immediately? Let's read to find out!

Victor closed the door quietly behind him, an old album full of pictures sitting on his arms.  
  
  
  
Yuri was lying in bed on his cell phone. Considering that he used both hands, Victor guessed he was playing some game, but his face wasn’t very happy.  
  
  
  
“Yurachka?” The eldest called in. “Can we talk?”

  
  
  
"You're already talking.” Yuri replied, but then grimaced as he left the cell phone. "Sorry.”  
  
  
  
“It's all right.” He said sitting on the edge of the mattress. "Are you still hungry? You barely touched the food.”  
  
  
  
“I'm fine. Mila is right, I can’t mess up my diet.” He shrugged and motioned at what Victor held. "What is that?"  
  
  
  
“Pictures.” He said with the biggest of smiles while opening the album. “I should wait until you get a boyfriend so we can embarrass you, but it’ll probably take a while.”  
  
  
  
Yuri rolled his eyes and began to turn the pages, looking for something interesting.  
  
  
  
“Is this me?” He said pointing at a photo of a blond haired baby in the lap of a woman with similar features. “Wait, is that my mother?”  
  
  
  
"Yes." Victor nodded, taking the picture from its place and reading what it said behind "'Nina Nikolaevna Plisetskaya and Yuri Nikolaevich Plisetsky. December, 2000.' You were about eight months old, Yura.”

  
  
“How did you get this?” He said holding the paper. “I thought they had gotten rid of all of her stuff.”

  
  
“Mila kept it. They were friends.”

  
  
It wasn’t for nothing that Babicheva sank down in alcohol after rescuing Yuri that night. The image of bloody Nina lying on the sofa in her apartment shook her like nothing before.  
  
  
  
Nina was a carbon copy of Yuri. Her straight hair draped over her shoulders in golden waves, her green-watery eyes full of energy, the freckles on her cheeks. It was as if Yura was conceived without a father.  
  
  
  
The boy didn’t spend much time at the photo, returning to its spot. It wouldn’t do to think about a past that wouldn’t come back.  
  
  
  
They continued to see some more images. Yuri laughed at a rare gem with Mila and braces, Georgi in his emo-gothic phase and Yakov with hair. He also wanted to disappear when he saw a picture of himself with a dirty face of cheetos.  
  
  
“Is that Dad?” He stopped in a picture of Yuuri with a ballet costume. “What are these clothes?”  
  
  
  
"That's when he got his first main role in the Mariinsky. Ali from ‘Le Corsaire’." Victor smiled mischievously at the sight of Yuuri only in those arabic styled pants and a headdress. That role was a Christmas present for Victor as well, he was sure.  
  
  
  
“His tattoos are gone.” Yuri noticed with a confused look.  
  
  
“Make-up. Lots of it. Yuuri was afraid the _ninkyo dantai's_ marks would scare the audience.” It was the only downside of the costume, Victor loved those tattoos in Yuuri.  
  
  
  
"Was he good? In ballet, I mean.” The boy said going to the next page. “Why do you have pictures of him here?”  
  
  
  
"These are photos that were supposed to go to the trash, but we're too attached to let them go. Yakov doesn’t know about it.” He sat more comfortably in the bed. “And about Yuuri, he was perfect. I’m not saying this as the guy who spent years marveling over him, but as someone who was bewitched by his routines. He’d shine brighter than the prima ballerina. In fact, he overshadowed everyone. He gave himself to the story in a way no one else did. When Yuuri dances, he makes...”  
  
  
  
“Music with his body?” Yuri guessed.  
  
  
  
“Yes.” The older man said with amusement. “How did you know?”  
  
  
  
“Everyone says that. Minako-sensei and Yuuko-san, mainly.” He stopped to look at a photo of Yuuri leaning on the barre. “I wish I could dance like him. To know how to express myself so well that I don’t even need songs for it.”  
  
  
  
"I'm sorry I haven’t been to many of your recitals, Yurachka.” He said, touching the boy's hair. He definitely had a thing for golden stuff. “But I'm sure your dance is amazing. You don’t need to be like Yuuri to be beautiful.”  
  
  
  
  
A slight blush covered the boy's cheeks as he said in a low voice:  
  
  
“Maybe... Maybe I can show you the choreography I'm working on for YAGP later. It's not ready, probably looks like trash if you don’t know dance, either. But if you want...”  
  
  
  
“Of course!” He sounded too excited for someone who had zero idea of what YAGP was. “I would love to, Yura. I'm sure you look gorgeous dancing anything!”  
  
  
  
Yuri rolled his eyes and muttered something about dramatic fathers before continuing with the photos.  
  
  
It then came to Victor that Yuuri was an inspiration for Yura for dancing and probably other things, too. Was Victor some sort of role model for Yuri as well?  
  
  
_Perhaps a model of how a father shouldn’t be,_ the poisonous part of his mind whispered.  
  
  
“Wow, wait a minute there.” Yuri stopped in a blurred pic that was probably taken in a nightclub. "Are these you and Dad? And you had long hair?”  
  
  
  
Oh, no.

  
  
That picture wasn’t supposed to exist anymore. If Yuuri found out about that, Vitya would be shot. He should’ve checked the album before it reached Yuri's hands.  
  
  
"Um... It's just... Well..." His face flushed a bit more every time he looked at the photo. He ended up just staring at a stain in the ground. "That's when we met, I was on a trip to Kabukicho.”  
  
  
  
Yuri, having grown up in Japan and in a family associated with organized crime, knew the implications of that phrase and couldn’t hide his shock.  
  
  
“Kabukicho? How old were you?”  
  
  
  
“I was 17, he was 16.” He said remembering the day. Lots of drinking and other illegal stuff. He was grounded for a month after that.

  
  
  
“16? In Kabukicho?!” Yuri was livid. “So he... and you...”  
  
  
  
Finally realizing what his son was thinking, Victor quickly fixed:  
  
  
  
"I didn’t sleep with him, I swear! Yuuri wasn’t a prostitute!” Not that he knew, at least, but that would only make it worse.  
  
  
  
Yuri was visibly relieved with that and the color gradually returned to his skin, but now he made the disgusted face of children who heard too much of their parents’ intimate life.  
  
  
  
"This is gross, I don’t know if I want to hear more. 16 and 17... Too young for Kabukicho.” He shakes his head and go back to the photo. “You guys look high as fuck. Is Dad in your lap?”  
  
  
  
"In my defense, I thought he was 18." Victor argued.  
  
  
  
"With that baby face?" Yuri arched an eyebrow. “I’d say he’s 15. And guessing high at that.”

  
  
  
“Asians, Yuri. They always look younger.” He sighed. “Yakov went to discuss the purchase of a shipment of cocaine with Minako. All the men received someone to entertain them for the night. But I was the only ‘child’, so prostitutes weren’t an option. That's when Okukawa presented me Yuuri.” He smiled at the memory.

  
  
"Your father was a walking paradox. He’d whisper the most obscene things to me, but when I said he had beautiful eyes, he blushed. Cute. Lovely. The most adorable thing in that nightclub and we just kissed a little.” He laughed, shaking his head. "That picture is the only memento I took from this trip to Japan. I thought I'd never see Yuuri again, that it was a one night thing. Two years later he came on a diplomatic mission and to study ballet. I was so excited, but much later I discovered that he didn’t remember me.”  
  
  
  
Yuri covered his mouth to avoid a burst of laughter.  
  
  
  
"Oh, Papa, you've been forgotten.” Yuri said with false pity, but amused at the tale. “What happened, then?”  
  
  
  
"I was an idiot, that’s what happened. I’d send all the signs I was interested in him. All kinds of flirting, even the bad ones. I even went back to doing ballet because of him! He’d blush and change the subject, I thought he was just being difficult. Then one day we were sent to a recognition mission that went wrong and I was shot in the arm. I still have a scar.” He said, lifting the sleeve of his sweater and pointing at a mark above his elbow.  
  
  
  
“I panicked. I was so sure I was going to die I began to confess all my sins. Yuuri discovered things at that time that I never told anyone, not even Yakov. I also asked him if what happened in Kabukicho hadn’t meant nothing and he was so confused. That was the weirdest thing in my life, because I told what happened, he claimed he didn’t remember, bullets flew over our heads and my arm was dripping blood. Not fun at all.” No wonder Yuuri wanted to protect his child from this kind of mission. If it was traumatic at 16, sure as hell it’d be at 14. “It gets prettier in the end. Yuuri understands that I wasn’t mocking him with the flirting and admits that he always had a crush on me. We started dating and it was the best time of my life. Years later you showed up and it got even better. From there you know how it goes."

  
  
  
Yuri was amazed. It wasn’t the most romantic story, it was pretty ugly in some ways. But it was still how his fathers met. Wasn’t that what other kids talked about with their parents?  
  
  
  
"You've always been so flashy. Dad would never tell the story like that. He’d paint himself as the pinning fool who was lucky enough to catch the charming prince's attention.”  
  
  
  
"Yuuri always had this problem with his self-esteem.” The older man smiled sadly. "It's hard for him to accept he's good at something, that he deserves a reward, or that he can get good things without giving anything in return. But he did so many awesome things, _solnyshko_. The best one, no doubt, was to raise an amazing boy like you.”  
  
  
  
The blond's smile subsided and he looked away at the album, but that wasn’t interesting anymore.  
  
  
  
"Some in _bratva_ don’t seem to approve how I was raised.”  
  
  
  
“Is it about Yakov?” Victor sighed. "Don’t be so harsh on him, Yurachka. He’s just an old man attached to customs that must’ve come from before the Soviet Union. They have nothing to do with you.”  
  
  
  
“I heard the whole conversation.” He looked up. “About how I am too Japanese to the _bratva_ and that I need to understand the Russian way. Father, I know this system. I’m the only member in the _ninkyo dantai_ who studies Russian politics as much as the Japanese ones. Dad gives me the lessons. When I asked why I didn’t study just one system, he said it’d be unfair to erase part of my identity because of a fight between my parents.”  
  
  
Victor could hardly believe what he was hearing. He knew Yuri had the best of both worlds, but he thought it was on his own initiative. Internet is there for a reason. But Yuuri having the worry of teaching it was new.  
  
  
"He... Did he say that?"  
  
  
  
Yuri nodded and closed the album.  
  
  
”I’d love to join the _bratva_ , I’d love to be _pakhan_. Fuck, I simply _dream_ with the day I can spend more time with you.” He confessed. "But I don’t want to leave everything behind. I can’t turn my back on Dad and pretend nothing happened. It’d be... the same they did to you.”  
  
  
  
“Aw, Yura.” Victor pulled the boy into a hug and he went without hesitation, his arms finding comfort around his father's neck as he stroked his back. "You don’t have to give up anything. Your father and I, we don’t care if you're more Russian or more Japanese. We have our differences, but we agree on the fact that you are the best son we could ask for. It takes a lot to accept a separated family, even more in this environment. You’re very strong.”  
  
  
  
“If I wasn’t in the picture," He said in a choked voice. “you could still be together. You’d still rule everything loving each other without worrying about a troublesome heir.”  
  
  
  
"Oh my god, Yuri, how can you say that?” Victor stepped back alarmed to look him in the eyes. "You're not to blame for our break up. It happened, okay? You brought light into our lives. When we thought we’d spend the rest of our days doing bad, you appeared as a chance for redemption. An immaculate soul in the midst of lies, violence and hatred. You’re an angel, Yurachka. An angel who saved us." He smiled, wiping a few stray tears from those lovely green eyes. "Please, don’t cry. I'm terrible with people crying.”  
  
  
  
Yuri chuckled and rubbed his face.  
  
  
“Stop that, I’m fine. I’m not moved by speeches.”  
  
  
  
It was then that Victor realized he had a knack for making Yuris cry.  
  
  
  
"How about we go to the skating rink tomorrow?" He asked holding his hand. "The one where you learned to skate?”

  
  
  
The younger widened his eyes.  
  
  
"Is it still working?"  
  
  
“Of course. Yakov wouldn’t close my favorite rink.” _Duh, I'm the pakhan._ “We can go before your father arrives.”  
  
  
  
"Or you can invite him to come with us." He suggested.  
  
  
Ugh, so there are Vitya's genes for bad ideas.  
  
  
  
"I don’t think that's going to work." He said cautiously. "If I know him well, Yuuri will land on Russian ground and get you into his private jet so fast I won’t be able to say ‘Dasvidaniya’. In a best case scenario, he'll rip off one of my fingers if I dare anything.”  
  
  
  
"You didn’t even try. And I haven’t seen you two in the same room for nine years.” He bent his head slightly to the side. “Except that time I starred in ‘The Nutcracker’ in Tokyo. You guys sat on opposite corners of the theater.”  
  
  
  
"The mood was awkward when we both went to see you in the backstage, also.” Victor wrinkled his nose.  
  
  
  
”Dad excused himself to go to the restroom so he wouldn’t have to talk with you.” Yuri managed to keep from laughing. “Minako-sensei scolded him for days.”  
  
  
  
“It's just like him.” He glanced over his watch. It was already late. “Let's do this: I'm going to invite Yuuri to join the rink with us, but I can’t guarantee anything. If he doesn’t accept it, you miss the chance to skate with your old papa here.”  
  
  
  
"I’m sure..." He was interrupted by a yawn. "...he will."  
  
  
  
"I think it's time for kittens to sleep." Victor said getting up and putting the book on the bedside table. “It's been so long since I've put babies to bed. This brings back memories.”  
  
  
  
“Papa, I'm 14 years old.” Yuri said with a scowl as he pulled the blanket from under him.  
  
  
  
“Shh, don’t ruin it. You’re just a baby.” He said covering up the teenager, as he had seen the last time Yura had slept in that room. “Too bad we don’t have Potya here anymore. You couldn’t sleep without him.”  
  
  
  
“14!” The boy scolded embarrassed at the mention of his favorite stuffed animal as a child.  
  
  
”Still a baby. My sweet little Yurachka.” He said touching the boy's face with his fingertips and leaning to kiss his forehead. “Good night, kotenok. Sleep well.”  
  
  
  
”’Night, Papa.” He said closing his eyes “Thank you for saving me today.”  
  
  
  
_You’re the one who saved me 12 years ago, Yura,_ he thought with a smile.  
  
  
  
“You’re welcome, Yurachka. See you tomorrow.” He said, forcing himself to leave the room, because if he could, he’d stay there watching Yuri sleep all night like a creep. He had this irrational fear that the boy would disappear for another eight years if he stayed too far.  
  
  
  
He finally found himself in the hallway and headed for his own bedroom. What a day. Tomorrow would be too, for Yuuri would come to take Yuri back. He wondered how his ex would be like, after so much time. Were the wrinkles already showing? Or the white hair? 33 years don’t make you an old man, but stress leaves its marks. Better yet, did Yuuri put on some weight?  
  
  
  
Victor snorted at the thought. He doubted that work would let Yuuri slack off. He probably had the same exercise routine as when they first met. Blessed be his stamina. But he couldn’t imagine Yuuri with the defined lines of youth. He’d still be lean, but with more curves. Like the time they took a sabbatical month in Europe that almost killed Yakov. Yuuri said “fuck this” about his workout regimen and decided to rest. And, god, Victor was so weak for a Yuuri out of shape. He was soft and cuddly and everything good on Earth. What the Russian wouldn’t do to touch those rosy cheeks again, trace the tattoo designs with kisses from his shoulders to his abs, pin his hips against the bed until his fingers left bruises and...  
  
  
  
”Stop that.” Victor scolded himself while closing the door behind him. “You’re no longer a boy to fantasize about impossible things, Nikiforov.”  
  
  
  
It was the truth, the purest of them. There’s no reason for Victor to dream of having Yuuri back after what happened. He couldn’t even say if he had forgiven the Japanese's attitude, he couldn’t expect reciprocity.  
  
  
That night, Victor slept with the image of brown eyes in his mind, and the certainty that he would see them in person the next day.

 

 

 

  
  
  
  
The following morning passed too quickly for Victor's taste.  
  
  
He and Yura had breakfast together; the blonde updated his Instagram with a selfie next to Victor (after begging for the wi-fi password) with the caption "Me and Dad 2.0"; they played Mario Kart (Yuri lost); Victor braided Yuri's hair in a french braid; Lilia showed up at the front door and demanded to see Yuri's ballet foundations; Yuri showed his half-finished choreography of a song called "On Love: Agape" and Victor almost cried while Lilia pointed all the technical flaws.  
  
  
Yeah, an ordinary morning.  
  
  
  
Yuuri would arrive at a private airport around noon.and the two Russians were the adult and child combos of anxiety, with an extra package of expectance. Yura hoped his parents would skate with him and Victor only prayed Yuuri wouldn’t shoot him. To do that all you needed was a gun and a reason. Katsuki had both.  
  
  
Georgi went with them, probably to make sure no one got hurt in the process. And to call out Victor on his nerves.  
  
  
  
"I've seen convicted men less tense than that, Victor. ” The man said in the front seat. “Calm down, Katsuki won’t bite you.”  
  
  
The man wetted his lips and hid the mischievous grin from Yuri's sight with his hand. He wouldn’t mind a few bites from Yuuri. He always knew how to use his mouth...  
  
  
"It wasn’t you who fled the country without his consent, papa.” Yuri said as the wind from the window messed the few strands of his hair that weren’t braided. “If there’s someone he'll be pissed at, it’ll be me.”  
  
  
"And I hope it doesn’t happen again, Yuri Plisetsky. ” He said in his best responsible adult voice. "Otherwise I'll take you to Tokyo myself next time.”

  
  
Yuri tsked and looked back at the traffic, which was much more quiet in this part of town. It was his way of saying there wouldn’t be a next time.  
  
  
The car stopped near what looked like an office, but the surroundings were open, with several airstrips and a hangar. The man who managed everything greeted them and said that the Japan's jet would arrive in a few minutes.  
  
  
In fact, it didn’t take long for a small plane to rise in the sky and make its way to the ground. Victor's hands were sweating as he followed Yuri to the outer area where the jet had just landed.  
  
  
No sooner a ladder had been placed by the door, this one hastily opened and a very, very agitated Yuuri Katsuki came out, looking around frantically until he stopped his eyes on Yuri.  
  
  
Victor thought he’d stumble on the stairs with the rushing motion. Behind him a man he recognized as Phichit Chulanont was also getting off the plane at a much slower pace than his friend. Yuuri didn’t walk, he ran towards Yuri. The younger of the three came closer inconsciently. He missed his Dad even after a short time.  
  
  
Yuuri almost fell as he hugged Yuri and Victor could finally see the work of the years. Yuuri Katsuki hadn’t changed much since the last time they met. The only difference he saw was the slightly longer hair and a new frame for his glasses. Besides, it seemed Yuuri hadn’t slept for weeks, but Victor knew it was only two days.  
  
  
  
“Are you insane?!” Yuuri cried in Japanese while holding his child’s face. “You could be _dead_. What if an enemy recognized you? You said you’d leave St. Petersburg and head to Europe. What if the Crispinos found you? I'd lose you forever, Yuri. God knows what would happen if they had their hands on you!”

  
  
  
“I’m fine!” He said loudly, but lowered his tone immediately. "I wasn’t in danger, I never was. You think I don’t have it, but soon I’ll be 15, Dad. I know how to take care of myself. I needed to prove I'm not a child anymore.”

  
  
  
"When would you come home, then?" Yuuri asked with a deep frown. "When the whole world knew you had disappeared? When Victor and I weren’t the only people looking for you? The first thing about becoming an adult is realizing the world is dangerous, Yuri. You failed a very important and simple test.”

  
  
  
Yuri looked down. If it was regret or shame, Victor couldn’t tell.

  
  
  
Yuuri took a deep breath and hugged him once more, holding him for a long time.

  
  
  
"Don’t do this ever again, sunshine. I’d die if I lost you.” He whispered.

  
  
“I’m sorry.” Yuri said so softly that Victor barely noticed he had spoke.

  
  
Yuuri finally seemed to notice his presence and his demeanor changed completely. Even with large bags under his eyes, Katsuki could still seem impassive when he wanted to.

  
  
  
That was how he remembered him. Unbreakable, immortal, unreachable Yuuri Katsuki. Smiles that could start wars, looks that meant someone’s death.

 

  
  
He used to be his.

  
  
For six years, Yuuri belonged to Victor. Or he liked to think so. No one could completely overpower Yuuri, but love can tame even the most dangerous beast. It's a drug, and the two were too dependent on each other to accept anything else. If Victor was the king, Yuuri was the queen. They had such a strong reign when they’re young.

  
  
  
But one in three decisions made in youth is a mistake. It was one of those that separated the royal family.  
  
  
“Thank you for taking care of him.” He said void of any emotion. It was his professional voice. Victor would’ve been content if he'd just been angry now. "If you hadn’t been around, who knew what could happen.”  
  
  
"It's my job, to look after him.” He said before a sigh. “He's my son, right?”  
  
  
Yuuri nodded and the three of them settled into a somewhat awkward silence. No one’d dare to take the next step. A few feet away, Phichit Chulanont alternated between checking his cell phone and looking at the trio. He seemed anxious to leave. Victor knew that behind him Georgi was a similar scene.  
  
  
Yuri looked at him out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the request Victor had promised. The Russian took a deep breath and said before losing his courage altogether:  
  
  
"Do you want to stay for lunch? The trip must’ve been tiring." He said trying to sound more polite than expectant.  
  
  
“I really shouldn’t.” Yuuri said candidly. “I have things to settle at home. The sooner we go, the better.”  
  
  
"It's an eleven hours long flight, Yuuri. You hate airplanes.” He ventured a modest smile. "Go tomorrow, when you're not so stressed. There are many vacant rooms at home. “  
  
  
Yuuri laughed without humor. His gaze now was full of contempt and what looked like sarcasm.

  
  
"Victor, I don’t want to leave Yuri in Russia for another second and you know why. Also, I’m no longer welcome in any _bratva_ residence.”

  
  
  
Yuri rolled his eyes and mumbled something in Russian about parents being so dense.

  
  
  
"I’m the _pakhan,_  Yuuri. My word rules. If I want you in my house, they’ll have to accept it.” He said simply, still hopeful for a positive response. “Yura wanted to visit the skating rink. Our rink.”

  
  
  
"Oh, he did?" The Japanese said looking at the boy, who just nodded.

  
  
"You’re always telling stories. “ He shrugged. "I kind of remember a little of that. It must be bigger than the Ice Castle in Hasetsu."

  
  
  
“Sure it is.” Yuuri muttered with a tinge of nostalgia in his voice. After a defeated sigh he looked at Victor and said. "I think I can stay here for a little longer, but I'll have to refuse the lunch offer. I really need to recover from the flight. But I think a dinner is possible.”

  
  
It lightened Victor's gaze and he did a very poor job trying to hide his excitement. Yuri was much better than him.  
  
  
“That's great!” He said with that heart-shaped smile that would make Yuuri melt a few years ago. "Do you have any luggage? I'll send my men to get it. Are you sure you're not hungry? My new chef is great, I can ask to do something very light for you and... “  
  
  
"No, Victor, I'm going to a hotel." Yuuri said decisively. “I... I won’t feel safe in your house. Everyone hates me there.”  
  
  
"That’s not true and you know it.” He said seriously. "There are people there who respect you and... Look, this is no time or place to discuss this.”

  
  
"Yeah, it won’t be now that we're going to solve an eight-years long clash.” Yuuri said in a low voice, staring at the floor.

  
  
"Have you stopped the barking?" Yuri said waving in front of the two. “If I'm not getting on the plane, then I want to eat.”  
  
  
“Of course, sunshine.” Yuuri said with a warm smile running his fingers through the youngest's braided hair. "We should leave now, your father must be busy. What time do you want to meet to go to the rink?”

  
  
"Maybe at seven?" Victor suggested with a smile “I’ll talk to Yakov so he can leave the place just for us. You wear a size 39, don’t you, Yuuri?”

  
  
Yuuri blinked, slightly taken back.

  
  
“No! I mean, I do, but I'm not going to skate. It's a time just for you, I can only show up for dinner if you want.”

  
  
“Dad, come on!” Yuri whined, holding his arm. “Of course you have to go. I want both of you with me." He seemed determined in his request.

  
  
  
"I'd love if you came." Victor said at once, but ended up adding. “For Yura.”

  
  
Of course it would be for him, with no second intentions. Yuri himself seemed to want to kill Victor for that sentence, but it was too late and Yuuri agreed:

  
  
“Okay, sure. For Yuri.” He said returning to his professional mood “We’ll call you to make the arrangements. See you, Victor. Let’s go, Yuri.”  


  
The two of them walked back to Phichit, who seemed very pleased that the conversation was finally over. Yuri looked back once and waved with a smile.

  
  
  
His kitten was happy. It was enough for Victor.  
  
  
The Russian sighed, one hand over his face as he turned toward the exit. Georgi seemed amused by the sight.

  
  
  
"Do we have a family night on your agenda?" He asked normally.  
  
  
"It's not a family when Yuuri still hates me.” He said grumpily getting into the car, Georgi right behind him.

  
  
"Don’t you think it's weird to say that when you haven’t forgiven him yourself?" The dark haired man asked with an arched eyebrow.

  
  
  
“Hypocrisy won’t worsen the reputation of a murder, Popovich.” He said as he looked out the window, watching the scenery change as the car moved. “Please, book me a table for three at the Lohengrin for tonight. Yuuri always liked the food there.”

  
  
Georgi smiled.  


  
"Of course, _pakhan."_

 

  
  
The next day, Yuri's Instagram updated with one more photo. The image showed him with a smiling Yuuri and Victor as they slid on the ice. The caption was "Me and Dads. It's been a long time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was it, guys. I'm very thankful for the response this received, I was so worried over my English skills. Happy to see it didn't bother you!  
> And about a continuation for this... I don't really know :x I have some ideas for a prequel, or even a plot divergence in the same AU, but nothing is certain. I currently have three wip's out of AO3 which I took a break from while translating it (it's easier than writing new content) so who knows when I would have time? But no one knows the future, guess you'll have to wait for it :D
> 
> See you next time! <3<3

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated <3


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